


The Adcana

by ParisianPatate



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Arcana Ads, Dumb Interactions, Mayhem, Multi, Other, Parody, Prologue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParisianPatate/pseuds/ParisianPatate
Summary: An AU based off of the Ads of the game. And then it morphed into something... really Meta. I can't explain more than that because it's just... inexplicable.All I can say is that it's bad, because it's supposed to be.Feeling like having some fun with it? Play "Guess the Ref" and figure out which Ad I am referencing where. Whoever is right gets nothing but the glory of knowing that they are too invested in this dumb game.Bonus round : Guess what "AC" stands for. This one is stupidly easy, though.
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak, I have yet to find out (there is too much to work with in these ads)., MC/Pretty Much Everyone (much to their annoyance), Nadia/Goatman, Portia/Muriel
Comments: 57
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue 1

"AC." I hear my name cut through the quiet evening air right as I am at my shop's door. I cringe, recognizing the voice. I was only one, sweet moment away from letting myself in. But it's too late now. Had I been quicker with these keys I could have avoided this whole thing. 

I turn around and see Asra, the vagabond magician. He's literally the worst. He's always up in my business when no one ever asked him to be. I think of my late aunt (may she rest in peace) as I roll my eyes at him. She always told me I should be nice to him because he grew up as an orphan on the streets or whatever. I try my best, but damn, is it hard. 

I concentrate on his pretty face whenever we come into contact, hoping that it'll distract me enough to tune out his annoying blabbing. It's such a shame that he sucks so bad, cause he totally has the hots for me. I would have loved to smash my face into his if he didn't make me want to run him over with a horse and carriage. Anything to escape his nosy personality. 

At the very least, his beautiful visage makes it so he's not a total waste of space. I especially love when it's crunched up in pain, weeping. It's absolutely delicious to see. I would normally take any opportunity to make him cry, but today I just want everyone to leave me alone so I can finally go to sleep. I don't have the energy to play with him like I usually do, since I was up all night and most of today frequenting disreputable establishments. It was far too much fun, but now I desperately need my beauty rest. 

He speaks. “I'm going away agai-"

"Good. " I cut him off. 

He blinks at me for a second, stunned at my cutting response. “I thought you would like to know." 

He continues to talk, like I didn't just purposefully interrupt him. My attempt to save both of us time today was all for naught, then. God, why is he like this. 

"I don't know what gave you that impression." 

I turn back around and wiggle my keys, finally managing to get it to click. "Alright then, bye!" I slide into my house, slamming the door behind me, exhaling in relief. I did manage to get out of that one in pretty good time, actually. I'm lucky. 

My bed calls to me and I happily begin to kick off my shoes and make my way toward the stairs. A knock at the door freezes me in my tracks. I groan so forcefully that it bounces off the walls of the still shop. I will assassinate him one of these days. I clench my fists and prepare to stomp up the stairs, completely ignoring him, when the knocking becomes more frantic. I groan angrily again, realizing I'll never sleep if I don't take care of this right now. I stomp over to the door instead, throwing it open with my face contorted in the most menacing glare I can muster. If he wants me to make him cry so bad, I can do that. 

Instead, I find Countess Nadia on the doorstep. We both jump at the sight of each other. I quickly relax my grimace and go into an awkward bow.

“Milady,” I say shakily, my eyes glued to the floor. I feel the heat rise to my face, partly from embarrassment ; partly from fear. I did it now, opening the door so abrasively. This is all Asra’s fault. My eyes go into slits of rage.

“That’s better.” She says. I feel like I’ve been plunged in ice. She noticed my insolence, then, and has chosen to acknowledge it. This can’t be good. My heart races as I hesitantly bring myself back into a full standing position. 

“I am at your service, Milady.” I say meekly. 

“Of course you are,” she responds. She moves forward, backing me into the shop. I feel squeamish under her piercing gaze. I see her look around disdainfully before her critical eyes turn back to me. 

“Are you the master magician of this house?”

“Y-yes.”

“You have quite the reputation.” She studies me intently. “I would like for you to prove yourself to me.”

I flutter my eyelashes at her, searching for comprehension. “How shall I do that, milady?”

“Join me for dinner and I will explain it all to you.”

I glance back at the stairs leading up to my room longingly. If I could sigh, forlorn, I would. But that isn’t an option. I turn back to her. “Absolutely, milady.” 

She studies me for another moment more before spinning around and gliding out the door. I lock it and follow her to the carriage, resigned. As I try to step inside of it, she gives me a questioning look. 

“What are you doing?” she asks.

I look at her equally perplexed. “Am I not supposed to follow milady to the palace?”

She rolls her eyes at me and sighs. “Follow, yes. But I do not remember telling you to ride in my carriage with me.”

I blink at her and step back onto the ground. She closes the door and calls for the lackey to pull away just as quickly. I fix the carriage with my eyes as it becomes smaller on the horizon, kicking up the dust in the streets.

What. The. Hell.

***

I stomp all the way to the palace. The Countess or not, I am absolutely going to make a scene once I am in that dining room. How _dare_ she ask me to not only _prove_ myself to her, but then _walk behind her like a dog_. My only respite on the whole trek is imagining taking our lavish meal and throwing it all around like a rabid ape. I smile devilishly at that fantasy. 

I make my way to the front gates and the guards open it immediately. They knew I was coming, then. A nervous servant with a feathered cap comes rushing up to me. “This way, please. Quickly! You have already made milady wait.” 

I scoff, making the chamberlain jump in surprise. He ignores my outburst and bustles away with me on his heels. 

We step into the dining room. Nadia is sitting with her back to us, but turns around when we enter. “Finally,” she says. I open my mouth to retort when she cuts me off, turning to a servant. “Portia. Please help our guest settle in.” A short, red-headed girl indicates for me to sit facing the Countess at the end of the table. I walk over with a sour expression on my face and collapse into my chair, arms crossed. I open my mouth once again when the Countess cuts me off.

“Now. About you proving yourself to me…” Nadia takes her fork and knife and begins to dig into the food before her. An equally enticing entree is placed before me as well. But I’m so angry right now I can’t even think about eating. I try to speak when she plows on once more.

“You must be familiar with the Count...” 

She’s not going to let me get a word in. I sigh quietly and begin eating as well. If I am here, I might as well get something out of it. At the first taste of the exquisite food, I feel slightly better. I hadn’t realized how famished I was. 

“An untimely death, caused by his murdering doctor. Or so the story goes…” My eyes pop up to her. 

Yes, Julian Devorak. The sexy pirate king. He killed the Count and disappeared. But he is rumored to still be lurking around the South End, appearing on occasion. It has always been my dream to meet him. I’ve heard so many stories about the trouble he’s gotten himself into since I am a regular at the Crazy Corvid. They are all very partial to him over there. And the clientele, men and women alike, never fail to go on and on about his dashing demeanor, commanding presence, and attractive face. I have fantasized about having a chance encounter with him on multiple occasions. All of them end with me sticking my tongue down his throat. But that encounter has never come to be, unfortunately. That doesn’t prevent me from frequently wandering in the night on the dark side of town, though ; constantly on the prowl.

As I am lost in my thoughts about the Doctor, I realize she has been talking the whole time. I snap myself back to attention as discreetly as possible. I hope she doesn’t ask me any questions now, because I wouldn't have the foggiest.

"I want you to resolve something that must stay absolutely confidential. It has to do with the… ahem." She clears her throat, spotting Portia. The servant had slowed her work, evidently eavesdropping on our conversation. She goes red and bows frantically. "I apologize milady. Didn't mean to interrupt." 

Nadia sighs once Portia excuses herself from the dining room. "I wish the help wasn't so… Simple. You know Portia there, like many of the people that work for me, can't read? Astonishing, really. Although, you'd think that wouldn't affect their ability to pick up on social cues."

Why is she telling me this? No one cares. Least of all, me. I just want everyone to leave me alone so I can finally go to sleep. 

She continues. "Anyway, I would like you to investigate into my… " she lowers her voice. 

"... let's call him my 'late' husband for now."

Why would we call him anything else? I mean, the dude is dead. But that doesn't matter, I'm still not doing anything. I stand up, finally getting a moment to speak. I prepare my elaborate response. 

"Nah."

With Nadia having stopped talking for the first time tonight, the quiet in the dining room is deafening. I guess she was expecting a longer answer, because she finally left me plenty of air to speak. When she realizes I am not going to say anything else, she quickly stands. She takes her time gliding to my side of the table and stops before me, towering. 

“I ask you, please help my lover.”

I blow air out of my nose. “Do it yourself,” I say. 

I am happy to finally get my piece in, and it has made me absurdly confident. That was the wrong move though. I feel something snap in her and she firmly grabs hold of one of my ears, pulling my face up to look into her firm glare. 

“Since you don’t seem to take requests, maybe you’ll do better with commands. You _will_ do as I say.” 

A tingle runs down my spine and I start trembling under her intense stare. I feel my ears burn as my slow, stupid brain finally catches up to the situation that I’ve gotten myself into. 

“I-” I stutter, my eye squinting in pain as I feel her dig a nail into my earlobe. “I don’t know what I can do to help.”

A smirk slowly creeps to her lips as she feels me squirm under her imposing presence. The heat moves from my ears to my cheeks as she continues to study me intently. “I will show you, then.” 

She releases my ear to the air. It feels icy cool on the hot skin that is now there. Then, she spins around and struts out of the dining room. I follow her, subdued. 

She brings me all the way to an abandoned wing in the palace. This place gives me the heebie-jeebies. Wait, don’t tell me… 

“The Count’s wing,” she states. Once she says that, a guttural moan echoes through the empty halls. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck jump up and I shuffle backward slightly. She smirks again, spotting my fear. “Come along, now.”

My heart is racing but I don’t think I can get out of this. I pick up the pace and try to trail her as closely as possible, my tail tucked completely in between my legs. She steps up to the door on the far end and nonchalantly opens it. “Do you see why this place is presumed to be haunted?”

She tilts her head, indicating for me to go inside the chamber before her. I swallow hard and pad into the room. 

It’s somber in here, so I can’t really make out much. My eyes swivel around quickly, trying to make sense of all of the dark shapes. I see a large bed in the middle and timidly step toward it. As I study the luscious sheets as best as I can in the dark, I feel the skin on the back of my neck begin to crawl. It’s because there’s… something behind me. I can feel its hot breath escape its mouth and encase me.

“Boo.” It whispers in my ear.

I scream at the top of my lungs and whip around so forcefully I end up collapsing on the bed behind me. My horror doesn’t abate as I see the monster standing before me. A human-like goat-man hybrid stands there, grinning down at me with pointed teeth. It laughs at the fear on my face.

“You were right, Noddy, this magician is cute. A fine choice. Now, let us see if they are as sharp as their reputation also claims.”

I… know that voice. A vague memory comes to me and I realize that it sounds just like the Count. Hearing it come out of the monster’s mouth is jarring, to say the least. Nadia steps into the room, completely unfazed, before closing the door. My eyes jump between the both of them. Is this… the Count? Is this how his ghost has chosen to manifest itself? But for a ghost he seems so… solid and real.

“AC, meet the Count.” Nadia introduces me to the goatman casually, causing my confusion to grow. “Now you can understand why we started those rumors about his death.” 

I blink rapidly, trying to understand everything that I have just been confronted with. This is… the Count? Who is… not in fact, dead, but… a goat?

“We couldn’t have the people of Aivusev see me in this… less than ideal state.”

I furrow my brow. I feel physically ill at thinking so hard about this mind-twisting situation. 

I finally manage to speak again, slowly coming out of my shock. 

“What… state is he in?” I ask Nadia, unable to address... _it_ directly.

Her gaze pierces into me. “He is a were-goat.” 

I gasp. She continues on calmly. “A curse that has plagued him since about three years ago. Though, because of all of our memory loss, we are unable to know _exactly_ just how it happened.” 

“Well, we do know something.” Lucio steps in, sighing remorsefully. “I believe that it may have resulted in… some dealing I may have had with the Devil.” 

I sputter. “An _Arcana?”_ I ask, incredulously. “For someone who is known to be as smart as you, that was incredibly stupid.”

He glares down at me. “They are far less cute when they open their mouth, Nadia. I am hoping that we will put them back in line for that impudent behavior at some point.”

She smiles over at me sardonically. “That is my intention.” I feel my cheeks burn again.

Goat-Lucio continues, “As bright as I may be, everyone is allowed to have a moment of lapsed judgement. Mine simply had… dire consequences.” He turns back to me after pacing around the room, deep in thought. “Now, this is where you come in. We need you to get in contact with the Devil once more and find a way for me to be rid of this form.”

I look at him, incredulously. “How can I do that??”

“Are you not a magician? Are magicians not supposed to be aligned with the Arcana?”

I swivel my eyes rapidly between them. “Not _this_ magician! I don’t even read tarot!”

They both pause and look at each other before shrugging. “Well, we’re set on having you do it, anyway,” Nadia says.

“ _Why!”_ I exclaim, flabbergasted.

They both shrug again evasively. Lucio speaks. “Because that is what is necessary to advance the plot.” 

I sigh deeply. Finally, a thought comes to me. “Wait.” I say. “Then, if the Count is actually still alive and, in fact, a were-goat... Did you frame Doctor Devorak for murder?”

“Oh, like he wasn’t thrilled about it.” Nadia speaks again. She rolls her eyes, but I see a fond smile come to her lips. “He claimed that a life of a fugitive was more fitting for him, anyway. He was sick of all of the office work and wanted something to spice it up.” 

So… this has all been an elaborate hoax to trick the rest of the city from knowing the truth about the Count. And the ‘murderer’ was a willing participant in the whole thing, craving to be in on the fun. It makes him that much more sexy. I love the bad boy types, always finding the fun in trouble.

“Well, it’s late now.” Nadia says. “Let me show you to your chambers.”

“Unless, of course, you prefer to stay with me here?” It’s Lucio the were-goat who grins down at me.

“Either way, I am staying at the palace, then?” I question.

“Yes.” Nadia responds. “Come along.”

I follow her out of the room and past a suddenly somber Lucio. She leads me to a door to a guest room. “Rest up. You will be starting early tomorrow.”

I sigh, bringing my eyes down. She steps into my space, gently backing me into the door. I glance up at her furtively. She runs a finger along my bottom lip and smiles down at me. “You’re already behaving much better.” 

She whips around and stalks away, leaving me stunned and speechless. 


	2. Prologue 2

I am lying on the guest bed, arms crossed and fuming. Before I knew it, I was a prisoner in the palace forced to work against my will. I play the whole night back in my mind angrily.

I sit up, suddenly scheming. This palace is huge, and it’s not like Nadia locked the door... 

I can sneak out. 

I walk over and turn the handle. I pull tentatively, causing the squeak of the hinges to bounce off of the walls. I pause behind the door to listen for movement. When nothing comes, I turn and tiptoe into the hall.

In an instant, I am looking into the red eyes of two snow-white hounds casually lying on the floor. They raise their heads off of their paws in interest, but their demeanor quickly becomes menacing. They show me a flash of white teeth and both let out a deep, reverberating, growl.

At that, I quickly backpedal into the room and slam the door. I _am_ a prisoner, then. And if I step out of line, it looks like I’ll have the hounds upon me. I sigh in resignation and begin to change into the night robes that were waiting for me. I guess all I can do is get that sleep I so desperately need. At least the bed is comfortable.

I settle into the silk sheets and immediately doze off when frantic rapping on the window makes me jump out of my skin. If I have learned anything from tonight, it's that if there is frenetic knocking, I should simply ignore it. I place a pillow over my head and close my eyes stubbornly. The noise persists for a while, but I don't move. I am going to will this away so I can finally have some peace. I need to take as much time to myself as I can before I start on that ridiculous mission in the morning. I have a feeling moments of solitude will soon be few and far between.

The pounding stops and the air is still once more. I sigh in relief and finally begin to relax again.

"You're a really heavy sleeper, aren't you?" 

I scream and roll myself into the wall defensively, frantically scanning the darkness for the source of the voice. It isn't difficult to find : standing before my bed is a short, plump figure.

"Oh, you're actually awake!" It's that red-headed servant from the dining hall. What was her name again?…Porridge? I just remember that it was something that was very strange for the region. She bounces on the balls of her feet and claps her hands excitedly.

"What are you doing in my room?" I pant, winded from the fright.

"Oh, well I tried knocking on the window, but you weren't answering, so I let myself in!"

I blink at her obliviousness. I know the type. I have one that already follows me around everywhere. I don't waste my time delving into it, and instead ask a different question.

" _Why_ are you here?"

Her giddiness dims and is replaced by a different kind of excitement : a mischievous zeal. She winks at me. "I'm sneaking you out."

I wish she had come earlier, that's exactly what I was looking for. Though oblivious, at least Porridge may prove herself useful. The prospect of freedom makes my adrenaline pump and I am quickly wide awake again.

"Alright!" I exclaim. I quickly rise and begin to disrobe to get back into my day clothes.

Color floods Porridge's cheeks. "Wait!" she shouts, whipping around. "LET ME GIVE YOU SOME PRIVACY." I roll my eyes as I change. Alright, prude.

"I'm done," I say after a moment. She turns around to take a peak and spots that I haven't fully pulled on my shirt. I see the heat come to her ears as she quickly twirls away again. I laugh at her fluster. It's surprisingly endearing.

Once I am truly changed, I walk toward the window. She steals a few glances at me and, realizing I am dressed, the tension slowly releases from her. I open the curtains and peer down below.

"So, how are we doing this?"

She walks up behind me, clearing her throat. "I'll show you… but it comes at a price." The confidence that I took from her moments ago is back, and mischief glows in her eyes once more.

I study her warily for a moment. "State it, then."

She looks me straight in the eyes. "I want you to fill me in on milady's secret assignment."

I snort. "Girl, I actually thought you wanted something that was gonna cost me." My brow furrows in annoyance as I think of the task I am being pushed into. "I don't care about keeping the Countess' dirty secret. I never promised I would." Without an ounce of drama, I spill the beans. "Count Lucio is alive and is, in fact, a weregoat. And Doctor Julian Devorak was willfully framed for his fake murder."

"I KNEW IT!" she shouts forcefully, slamming a fist in her palm. I can almost feel acute pain in my eardrums as her voice belts through the room. This girl is loud. "I _knew_ the 'abandoned' wing wasn't haunted! There is no such thing as ghosts." She lowers her voice, suddenly mumbling sourly to herself. "And _of course_ Ilya would do something so _ridiculous_ for flare."

I wish I could care who this Ilya is, but I really don't. Still, I am intrigued that an incorporeal spirit is more implausible in her mind than a man that has turned into a goat. I shrug to myself, already over it. "Well, are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?" 

She perks up again, nodding excitedly. "Right this way!"

She climbs over the railing and side-steps along the ledge to some thick, tall vines gripping the outside walls. "Once I'm down there, follow me." She begins her descent before stopping, thinking. I see her eyes swivel as her thoughts run. She finally locks them with me, a small grin coming to her lips. "That way if you fall, I can catch you." I simply look back at her, deadpanning. I see the red come to her cheeks again as she continues downward. Once her feet touch the grass below, I follow. It's much easier than I thought it would be. When I touch down, I brush my hands together.

"Well," I say, turning to her. "Lovely meeting you, but this is where I take my leave." I turn to stalk away when she stops me, shouting again.

"WAIT!" I feel my ears ring on impact. This girl _really_ needs to turn the volume down. "I can't just let you go! Milady will be furious." I blink, baffled once more by this servant. What was the point of sneaking me out, then? "Oh, we absolutely _must_ go back to your guest room when we've finished!"

"Finished with what?" I question, totally bewildered.

"With exploring, of course!"

I simply stare at her for a while, letting the silence on the grounds linger. "Yeah, I'm not gonna do that." I turn to leave when she grabs my arm. 

"Come on!" she insists. "It'll be fun! Besides, you may be able to get away from me, but you know you won't be able to get away from milady."

I sigh in resignation. She is right, afterall. I was thrilled to have that taste of sweet freedom, but it was short-sighted of me. I eye the vines on the wall dubiously. I should have just stayed in bed. But since I'm already up, I might as well check things out. 

"Fine." I say reluctantly. "But I need a drink."

She releases my arm and winks again. "That'll be our last stop before we turn in." 

Oh boy, how long is her itinerary? I follow, too sleepy to argue.

"First, I'll take you to the Palace Gardens! They are so beautiful at night, especially under the full moon. Come, come!” She practically skips away, leaving me to shuffle behind her.

Before long, we are in the gardens. They're not bad, but I've never been one to truly appreciate greenery. One green space always looks like any other, and in the night, that only proves truer. We wander through hedges, her humming contentedly at my side. She stops suddenly, her eyes fixed on something over my shoulder. 

"Oh!" I hear her say as she studies whatever it is. "Now, who is this handsome stranger?" I turn my head and scan the dark greenery ahead of me. The moonlight catches on the light curls of the person wandering the garden before us. I would recognize that white hair anywhere. 

My fight-or-flight response kicks in and I hook an arm over her shoulders, clamping a hand to her loud mouth and pulling us to the ground behind a bush. "Get down," I seethe between clenched teeth. I hold us there for a long moment. All I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. When it finally fades and they can take in the noises of the area around us, I strain to hear if he approaches. Did he see us? Will I finally get away from him?

I turn my head to the side and lock eyes with Porridge over my hand. I hadn’t noticed, but I am still holding her firmly in my arms. She feels incredibly warm under my touch. I feel her face burn hotter the longer I look into her eyes. _Oh, no_. Not you too. I release her and scoot away silently. She laughs nervously under her breath and starts to fan her face. 

I don’t know what it is, but as far back as my clear memories go (which is about three years ago) every person that I have come into contact with falls desperately in love with me. I have tried everything : ghosting them, degrading them… I even stabbed Asra once, but look where that got us. I find that whatever I do, once we’ve gotten past the point of being strangers, it’s too late. They seem to love anything and everything I do and will continue to pursue me for it. It’s exhausting, really, fighting off so many potential suitors. I’m a chaser by nature. If my prey is served to me on a silver platter, it doesn’t taste nearly as good.

“AC?” Silk tones suddenly cut through the night air and I yelp. I have had far too many jump-scares tonight. I feel like I’ve wandered into a horror game. I am reluctant to turn my head and acknowledge who is inevitably behind us. 

“Why are you hiding behind these bushes?” Asra asks me sweetly.

I ignore his question and spit out my own. “Weren’t you supposed to _leave_?” 

He nods. “I was setting off on another one of my travels, when I ran into Nadia in front of your shop. We have quite the history together, so she invited me to the Palace to help with the…” he stops, spotting Porridge next to me. He lowers his voice. “... _secret_ assignment.”

I groan as comprehension slaps me in the face. This is just _great._ Not only will I have an overbearing ruler and a furry on my case, we can add this twink to the mix. I stop, thinking. “Wait, you read tarot! Why aren’t _you_ the one to do this? You’ve actually spoken to the Arcana!”

He clears his throat nervously, his eyes going from me to Porridge. He speaks under his breath again. “You might want to keep quiet on the details of this, it is top se-”

“I already told her.” I cut him off, waving his words away. “Answer my question.”

He looks nervous for another moment, before it melts from his face and is replaced by a fond, warm smile. “That’s obvious, isn’t it? It’s because you’re the main character.”

“Alright, whatever.” I grab hold of Porridge’s hand and pull us both to our feet. “Well, we gotta go.” 

I steer us away from him forcefully. He starts to follow. “Oh, I can come too-”

“NO.” I say, turning to him. “I am spending the night with Porridge.” I run my fingers through her hair for impact, turning my full attention to her. I see her blush under my stare.

“Who?” he asks.

I blink at the question. “It’s Portia, ” she whispers to me. 

“That’s what I said.” I grab her by the waist and pull her to my side, looking at Asra defiantly. “I am spending the night with Portia. Now, scram.” 

I see an array of emotions flash through his eyes before they settle. He gives me a sad but kind smile. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow in the library, then. We have a lot of work to do.” And with that he walks off. 

When he’s gone I exhale in relief, letting go of her. “Sorry about that, it was the only way I could get rid of him.” It’s true, whenever I make it clear to anyone that is vying for my attention that I am dedicating my energies to pursuing someone else, though they still clearly want me, they back off and linger in the background for a while. It’s weird, but at the very least it works. God knows nothing else does. I take a few steps away from her to give her some space. 

She chuckles, embarrassed, but steps toward me, closing the gap I was trying to create. “I don’t mind it.” 

Right. She’s in love with me now, too. Curse being so damn irresistible. Though her face is still bright red, she looks up and gives me a sultry little smile. Her chest is completely pressed up against mine now. If I chance glancing down I’ll get a full view of her exposed cleavage. I clear my throat and walk away calmly. I’ve curved these situations before, I just always have to get the person back on track. “Where are you planning on taking me next?” I ask. 

At my question, the lust fades from her eyes and she perks back up, set back on her mission. “To the coliseum!”

***

We walk to the tall gates barring the entrance into the arena. At night, it’s unnaturally still. How boring. It’s much better in the daytime, packed with cheering spectators leering down at the fighting below.

She climbs over the gate and I follow, landing softly on the other side. 

“What are we doing here?” I whisper to her, unwilling to disturb the quiet that swallows us. 

“I’m looking for someone.” Her eyes are determined and she walks to the left, peering into the shadows behind the marble columns. I follow behind her, taking in the whole empty arena. I have so many fond memories here. I’ve witnessed a plethora of good fights. 

“There you are!” she suddenly yells out. Out of the darkness steps a huge figure ; one that looks like each one of his muscles is delicately carved out of coffee-stained marble. His long hair falls into his eyes as he gazes at her, glowering. I recognize him at once : The Scourge of the South.

“Huba-huba.” The gibberish falls from my mouth before I can stop it. I ogle at him, taking in every inch of his smooth, glistening skin. My eyes amble from his beefy arms all the way down to his large hands. I’ve seen them crush people to dust. What I would love for those hands to do to me. He doesn’t notice me, his contradictorily hostile yet sad eyes completely fixed on Portia. 

"Why are you avoiding me?" she demands. “Ever since… since I realized-” she stops herself from continuing, her face contorted in pain.

"I know it's not what you expected, but this is who _I am."_ His voice is deep. When it reverberates through the air, it feels like a solid punch to the gut. Whatta man.

Portia's mouth opens and closes like a stunned fish. I can see her battling with something inside of her. "I can't do this…" she manages to sputter out after much deliberation. 

The sadness in the beefcake's eyes deepens. "You better leave, then. _They_ are looking for me. Just, _go."_

Her gaping fish look returns as she struggles through another inner battle. She manages to speak again. "I don't want you to get hurt." She attempts to approach him, reaching out a hand, but he backs away from her touch. 

He let's out a low, derisive chuckle before regressing into the shadows. "You know that's impossible." 

When he disappears, Portia stands stunned for a moment before screaming after him, eyes straining through the darkness. "Muriel! MURIEL!" When only her echo answers her call, she gives up, collapsing on the dirt floor in a fit of sobs. 

That was awkward af. I wish I hadn’t been a spectator to that telenovela-esque drama. Not only did I have no idea what was going on, now I have a bawling woman on my hands. At the very least I got to see the Scourge up close and had a whiff of the testosterone coming off of him. I reiterate : What. A. Man. 

I let her go through it for a hot second before deciding my patience is running thin. I guess I'll have to try my best at… comforting her. 

"There, there." I pat her back half-heartedly. It doesn't seem to do anything to slow the tears. Quite the contrary actually, I think I made it worse.

I yank her off of the floor abruptly, causing her to stop as she snaps her head up at me in surprise. 

"Come." I say, reaching out a hand to wipe one of her tear-stained cheeks. "I'll be the guide next. Let's go get those drinks." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who shows up next? ;)


	3. Prologue 3

I lead us all the way to the most uproarious establishment in town : the Crazy Corvid. The unruly laughter bleeds out into the night air every time the door swings. When it opens again, two men locked in a brawl are released into the street along with the cacophony. A group of spectators follow them, stumbling over themselves and hollering as the fighting continues. I almost run up to watch when I realize I have heartbroken company and that, in these circumstances, doing so may be slightly tactless. I pout. Another time, then.

I hold the door and wave for her to go ahead. The bustle inside seems to pull her from her somber self. “It’s nice of you to bring me here, AC," she says. "I haven’t been in a while.” 

Huh. I'm surprised she's been here. She gave off strong goody-two-shoes vibes. But I guess she _did_ sneak me out of my room… Though she’s planning on sneaking me back and tucking me into bed before mommy wakes up and finds out. 

I see she still isn't as perky as before, so I think of the best solution I have to drown my own sorrows : free alcohol. “I’ll buy your drink," I state. 

“No, no! You shouldn’t!" She exclaims. "I'll buy. It’s all my fault you’re out right now, anyway. This is the least I can do.” 

I ponder for a second. “Yeah, actually, you’re right. You’re buying.” 

We walk over to the bar and slide onto two stools side by side. "Hi, Barth, " we both say at the same time. We pause for a second and look at each other.

"Jinx." I say. 

She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Her eyes go wide in surprise. A smile creeps to my lips. "That's a magical jinx, honey. Don't think you can break it so easily."

She furrows her brow as Barth puts down two pints of beer before us. I notice he gave her a Porter as well. We take a sip at the same time. I study her over my glass. “This is your drink of choice?” I ask. She nods since she can't do anything else. 

I am in a strange mood tonight. I would usually be thrilled to sit in silence without having to worry about company bothering me with their intrusive small talk. Especially for someone with as big of a mouth as Portia. But now… 

"Portia," I say before I can understand what is possessing me to do so. She perks up at her name and exhales loudly in relief. "Why are you working at the Palace?" I question. 

She's almost too excited to speak again. I can see it bubbling up inside of her, about to fizzle over. I already regret un-jinxing. And, for such a dumb question too. I'm losing my touch. 

"Well," she sings. "I came to Vesuvia to search for my brother. And I thought the Palace would have answers about his whereabouts.”

Since I've already stuck my hand into it, I politely continue the conversation. "Was he a servant there?” 

She scratches her head. "I guess you could say that?” She takes another swig of her pint before continuing. "Well, I found him. But he keeps disappearing on me. I think he finds that more mysterious and enticing.” She rolls her eyes. "If I find him, it's usually by happenstance. And somewhere around here."

"Hmm." I grunt, sipping my beer. Why did I want to know this. It is just as lame as everyone else's life story.

There's a kerfuffle by the door and a few breathless gasps. Portia turns toward it. "Speaking of the devil…" 

I turn nonchalantly, pint to my lips, to see who she is talking about. I almost spit my beer back into my glass when I do. 

Doctor Julian Devorak, the Sexy Rogue. 

Being quite the celebrity, he is quickly swarmed by the patrons around him. He smiles jovially and waves to them. 

Portia stands up. "ILYA" she screams. He starts and, spotting her, smiles. He begins to weave around the patrons and make his way straight. toward. us. 

I look at her, comprehension slapping me dumb. _HE'S her brother?? THE sexy plague doctor murderer?_

I am almost overtaken by my emotions : Starstruck and dumbstruck ; Immobilized and immovable. 

NO. I have been planning this meeting for far too long for me to lose it all right here. He _will_ be mine. I just have to stick to the plan. 

He steps up next to us. "Hello, Pasha." His voice could make me melt on the spot. It takes every last piece of my self-composure to not start crying the second it hits my ears. He's so _close._

She glares at him. "I was wondering if I was ever going to see you again."

"But doesn't that make finding each other all the more fun?” 

“No!" She regathers herself after her outburst. "Ilya, this is AC, my… friend." I see a slight tint come to her cheeks out of the corner of my eye. She's wrong, but we can address that later. I have to get myself in the zone. 

I have a good chance of the Doctor falling in love with me if he gets to know me, as indicated by my spotless track record. _But…_ I have to get him to that point first. And in order to keep his attention that long, I'll have to sit in stark contrast to all of the bumbling idiots that admire him daily. 

I throw back the remainder of my Porter, gathering the strength to not break my own resolve. I slam the glass down on the counter top, give Julian a curt smile out of the corner of my mouth, then turn my attention away from him just as quickly.

"Barth!" I yell to the barman. He turns to me, waiting for orders. "I'll need two shots over here."

I can feel Julian's eyes on the back of my head, contemplating me. I doubt he's been ignored in a long time. Coming back from his surprise, he places a hand to the counter and leans down, closing the space between us. I fix my eyes determinedly on Barth as he pours my shots, but I can feel my heart beat frantically the closer Julian gets. 

"AC, was it?” He speaks to me in low, seductive tones. "What is someone with such a sweet face like yours doing in a place like this?" He's so close to me that I can feel his body heat make _my_ temperature rise. And the way his voice just caressed my eardrums... I almost lose myself in it. But _I'm_ the boss here. I've had months to prepare for this encounter, and he had no idea I was coming for him. I already have the strategic advantage. Now I just need to advance the front. 

Barth places the two shots in front of me. I take them both into my hands and turn to him slightly, looking up into his striking face. A charming grin is plastered to it as he studies me, waiting for a reaction to his affront. 

I give him a wide, innocent, smile. "It's simple, really. I'm looking for a bad man to take home with me. But sadly, there are none here." I turn away from him and toward Portia, holding a shot out to her. "Luckily for me, I have charming company." Portia's eyes flutter as she realizes she is being addressed. Color floods her face as I raise my eyebrow and hold up my shot glass to her, offering for us to clink them together. We do so and pop them back. I can feel Julian's mind spinning furiously behind me as he observes us. 

As we place our glasses back on the bar, he speaks again. "What an interesting theory. But, if I may, one that is not very observant on your part. Why don't we discuss it more, along with other things, in a booth over there? I think I have some convincing arguments as to why you are wrong." 

I smirk to myself. I'm in. That was almost painfully easy. I feel my racing heart die down as I easily rein this whole situation in. I look to Portia and we both follow him. 

I scoot next to Portia and directly across from Julian in the booth. He orders a round of drinks for us before speaking to me, ignoring the glares cast out by his sister. 

"To come back to what you were implying before, about the lack of, and I quote 'bad men' in this establishment…" he pauses and takes a dramatic breath. "Are you familiar with who I am?" A cheeky grin comes to his lips. He's going straight on the attack, then. Why oh why does he make it so easy on me? I'll have my tongue in his mouth in no time. 

"Yes." I say, unbothered. I go to sip the new drink in front of me and speak over the brim. "Doctor Julian Devorak."

"So, you _are_ aware of my reputation?" 

I offer a small, coy smile as I pull the drink away from my face again. "The… _alleged_ murderer of the Count."

He leans back, throwing his arms casually over the back of the booth chair. "I rest my case then." 

I open my mouth the retort when Portia jumps in, a bundle of fury. "ABOUT THAT…"

I quickly put my hand over my ear. It takes everything in me not to turn and glare her to smithereens. Not only did she almost impact my eardrum from shouting right into it, she's messing with my whole plan of attack by inviting herself into this conversation. 

She jumps up and slams her hands on the table, leaning toward Julian to 'whisper'. "I know everything about your _dirty_ secret with the Countess and Count."

" _Be quiet_." Julian and I both plead at the same time. We smile at each other. 

He gets up and leans over, _actually_ whispering to her. "That is a _secret_ for a reason…" He looks around at the bustling bar to see if he can spot any eavesdroppers. He has such a high profile that a number of patrons are admiring him from afar, but it's doubtful they could even hear Portia over the din. Between a pinched mouth he questions her. "Who told you about that anyway?" 

She points to me and his eyes follow, interrogating. I shrug. "I reiterate. No bad men are here. Only… allegedly bad ones." 

His mouth opens and closes, giving him that confused fish look. I am struck by the family resemblance between both him and Portia in that moment. "How do _you_ know about that?" he asks. 

"Don't ask me, ask the Countess." I take another drink "She's the one that has me out here investigating the cause of the… situation." 

His brow furrows, then relaxes as he smiles at me. "Well, there are other things that still support my case…" he brings us back to our topic from before. He really isn't letting the subject drop. I totally got under his skin. I love that. "Exhibit A." He indicates his eye-patch with a flourish. 

"A patched up eye doesn't prove anything." 

"You're right, but how I GOT it will." He clears his throat. Apparently he's going to put on a show, all for me. I would be painfully embarrassed to be such a third wheel like Portia, but maybe that will make her leave. I hope so. She's cramping my style big time. 

As if on cue, she rises to her feet. But it's not from embarrassment : she rolls her eyes. "God, not this story again. I've heard it a hundred times. Trust me AC, you don't want to hear it. Want to go?" She smiles down at me. 

"Actually, I do want to hear it. Good night." My responses are short and cutting. I don't want her to entertain the idea of me leaving with her any longer. 

Her smile only wavers slightly after my blatant rejection. "Thanks again, AC. Don't feel like you have to entertain this guy too long in order to preserve his feelings. He actually likes for them to be hurt." She leans down and gives me a surprise kiss on the cheek. I can't believe she got that out of me. She addresses him directly while I recuperate from the blow. "Will you _STOP_ disappearing on me?" 

"You know I could never do that, dear sister." 

I get up and let her pass. I'll forgive the kiss for now, since she _did_ bring me to her brother. 

"Anyway, where was I…" But before Julian can continue, he notices my nearly empty glass and waves down a busboy for another round. "Ah, yes. The story as to… How I lost my eye." 

"I was out on the high seas in the middle of a stormy night. We were trying desperately to get to the eye of the storm in order to regroup from the battle against the elements that we had been raging for hours. But something about this storm, and where we were at sea felt… Unnatural. Unnerving. Occult." He slowly raises an eyebrow at me. 

Was that a provocation? Does he know I'm a magician? I don't know how he could. "What's so bad about that?"

"What _isn't_?"Our new drinks arrive and we both smirk into our sips. "As I was saying, something felt mystical and… very off. And I was right. Before we knew it, our boat was overrun… by an army of undead squid." He pauses, waiting for a reaction. I gasp to stroke his ego.

I feel the alcohol that I've been consuming in the last hour finally kick in. It makes his story all the more interesting, but makes it nearly impossible for me to not throw myself at him. 

"We were drowning under the rain, almost pushed off of the deck by the wind, fighting against the sea itself not to capsize us, and now we had giant and ghostly squid upon us. We fought, and we fought, and still they overran the ship. We managed to gain our advantage due to our skill, and just when I thought we were out of the weeds, I turned to our captain for guidance. And there I see a horrible sight : he was surrounded by the monsters." 

I am at the edge of my seat, trembling from either the anxiety his story is evoking in me, or from my desperate internal fight to keep myself rooted to the spot ; allowing him to continue uninterrupted.

"I had to act fast. Without even thinking, I ran toward the danger. A couple of crew members saw and followed. I was going in with nothing but my bare hands : I had lost my sword in a scuffle just before."

My eyes flit from his own and down to his lips. I lick mine, listening. 

"We threw ourselves into the fight, maddened. And we won." His jovial mood quickly darkens. "But not before we all had made sacrifices. Mine was this." He indicates his eye-patch again. "A squid had gotten to it and… It was too late." He sighs melodramatically. "But they do say to win the war and not the battle. I, at the very least, am still very much alive." He stops his long retail, looking at me smugly. "A good thing, too, since I am now in such… how did you describe it? Oh yes, 'charming company'." 

I can't resist anymore. His story just sent me over the edge. And his last, cheeky comment sends electric currents all the way down my spine. I climb onto the table, stepping over the glasses littering it, to kneel right in front of him. I reach down and grab him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him to me. I place my lips to his and kiss him roughly, before throwing him back into the booth and peering down at him from my elevated position. He looks up at me, shock making way to a grand smile. 

"Do you wanna have a good time?" he asks. Without waiting for a response, he hauls me over the table and into him, pulling us both onto the table-top. This causes pandemonium to break out as everyone quickly tries to copy him, finding their own spots on various surfaces. The music around us becomes more rapid, and people dance furiously to it, tables wobbling and glass breaking left and right. 

He spins me in and out, on and over the small space - careful to keep me glued to him. We're so close I can feel his breath on me. I feel like I'm floating. _I_ did this. _I_ made this happen. I'm the best. 

When the song is over, furious whistling and hollering breaks out. Julian and I pant, looking at each other in our proximity. The glasses that were on our table are all smashed on the floor around us. 

"You _are_ a bad man," I say to him. He grins, leaning down, and the world quickly melts away. Our lips move together and I truly taste him for the first time. The moments inch by as he is all that I feel. I am pushed up against the wall, completely encased by him. I feel him jump at one point, which surprises me, until I realize my hands have slipped into his shirt and are caressing his navel and slowly inching their way up to his chest. Looks like they got away from me. I smirk and dig my nails into his skin. I feel him softly gasp into my lips. 

We step off of the table and settle into the booth, continuing to kiss. He orders us drinks, and between pauses for air and sips, we swap spit. I feel angry eyes glare at the back of my head. That's right bitches, you lose. 

He stops at one point to speak to me. "So, how is your investigation about the… let's say for acute ears… _murder_ of the Count, going?” 

I smirk at him. "I am currently investigating the primary suspect on the case, and I am being very thorough." 

"Are you?" 

Is he testing me? I can turn this up a notch. 

As it goes on, I am pulled from my thoughts of undressing him and, instead, think of his sister. This girl really changed my life tonight. I could kiss her on the mouth in gratitude, if I wasn't already too busy trading tonsils with her brother. 

But I am oh so very busy. 

As the drinks multiply, I feel my inebriation worsen. It's thirsty work, making out so feverishly with the man you've fantasized about for months. I can 100% say my fantasies pale in comparison to reality. What a delicious specimen of a human being he is. 

My sleepiness grows and hinders my fervor, even though I try my hardest to squander it. It doesn't help with how many drinks I have in me. Julian notices and stops, studying me. Then he looks around. "I believe it's time to call it a night. It is almost daybreak." He steadily rises, helping me teeter to my feet. "I'll escort you to Pasha's and she can take over from there." I steady myself against him and we exit the establishment and weave through the streets. The walk back feels excruciatingly long, but we eventually make it to a sweet cottage not far from the palace. Julian raps on the door and a light rapidly comes on inside before it bursts open. 

Portia sees me in my sorry state and turns the volume up on high. "AC!" she screams. I do _not_ need that right now. That's… too loud and far too stimulating. She glares at Julian. "What did you do?” 

I start giggling. She's such a hard-ass. "My first impression of you was right Portia, you _are_ a goody-two-shoes." She looks at me in surprise, then continues to glare at Julian. She reaches out to pull me to her, stabilizing me. 

"Well," Julian says when I am out of his grasp. "I am on palace grounds, so I best not test my luck." He reaches out and takes one of my hands, bringing it to his lips and planting a deep, revering kiss on the top of it. His eyes rise to meet mine. "Until we meet again." And with a rustle of his cape, he is gone. 

Portia helps me clumsily sneak through the front entrance of the Palace, subdues the hounds outside of the door, and rolls me into bed. Before she can leave, I grab onto her sleeve. 

“Portia," I say, stopping her. Her eyes slowly rise to meet mine, suddenly shy. "Don't expect this from me a lot. My pride is too strong, so enjoy it while you can. But you… you changed my life." I see a carafe of water on the bedside table and pull myself up, teetering again. I point to it and she walks over, pours a glass, and brings it to me. I feel it slide down my throat. It is quite possibly the best thing I've ever tasted. Besides Julian's mouth, of course. When I've finished, I hand it back to her and lay down again. "You're probably my favorite person, outside of your brother." 

Her eyes go wide as a surprised smile creeps to her lips. "That's an unusually nice thing for you to say." 

"I told you to enjoy it while it lasted." 

I turn around and am out like a light. 


	4. 1. The Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to try to name the chapters after the Tarot cards that I think are most fitting.  
> It will 1) not be in order and 2) probably not make that much sense to anyone else but me. But you didn't come here for quality, amiright?

Waking up the next morning almost makes me regret everything from the night before. Almost. 

Portia was there to literally fight me out of bed. I would never have gotten up otherwise. Some hair pulling was involved from both parties.

First thing's first, I throw up anything and everything in my gut into the chamber pot. The light in the room burns and makes me want to throw up some more, so she gives me light-shades : some wiry mechanism that I can put over my eyes to dim everything. Then she washes me, dresses me, and escorts my half asleep and lifeless body to the library. She plops me on a chair facing Asra, who is looking offensively awake and chipper. Another great reason to hate him. 

His eyes go wide as he spots me. "What happened?” he asks. 

"Um." Portia says. "AC isn't feeling very well today." Then she quickly shuffles away from his interrogating regard. Coward. 

The silence that lingers in the library once the door closes behind her is oppressive. I can barely keep my head up and I sway dangerously. I only had a few hours of sleep this morning, and that was after two full days of virtually none. I want to keel over and die. Anything for some peace and rest. 

He studies me. I hate it. He's so nosy. "What did you do last night?" He can no longer keep his burning question to himself. 

"That's none of your business," I rasp.

I gathered as much strength in my core to be as forceful as I usually am with him, but I could only make that pathetic and very hoarse attempt. Something that Asra profits on to start talking my ear off : lecturing me about the importance of the work we are assigned, and how I should take this seriously, and how would the Count and Countess react to knowing their lead investigator is in the state, blah blah blah. 

I roll my eyes so far back into my head I'm afraid they’ll get stuck. I feebly hold up a hand, palm outstretched. “Shut. Up.” I beg weakly. 

He continues blabbing. My head pulses more violently as his yammering only continues to aggravate it. He’s not stopping and he probably never will. Drastic measures need to be taken, _sacrifices need to be made._

I stand up quickly, leaning over the table to take his face into my hands. In an instant, I put my lips to his and hold them there for a count to five. Then, I release him and sit back down, closing my eyes to fully escape from the light again.

“Now, think about that, _shut your mouth,_ and figure this out for me." I push the book in front of me all the way over to him. Before I place my head down on the table, I take a peek at him. He seems gleefully happy. I see his leg bounce excitedly as he takes the tome and starts thumbing through the pages eagerly, as silent as ever and just jolly to be there. It’s actually kind of… sweet.

Ew. How dare I think that.

I plonk my head down and pass out. 

I awaken who knows how long afterward, groggy and disoriented. I quickly suck in the drool that had been steadily pooling out of my mouth and raise my head, light-shades skewed and a nasty crook in my neck. Asra doesn't seem to have moved from his spot, though the pile of books around him has multiplied. He gives me a warm smile.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“How long was I out for?”

He looks out of the window casually, the light of the sun now high and bright in the sky.

“I’d say... A good four hours.”

_Four hours?_ It felt like twenty minutes. This pinch in my neck is a good indication that he’s probably right, though. I readjust my light-shades, then massage myself meekly. It’ll be a miracle if I can move this at all tomorrow.

While I swing my head around, I see Arsa eye me over his book. I can feel he wants to say something, but he hesitates.That's definitely a first. 

"What?” I ask when he glances at me again. 

His eyelashes flutter at being caught in the act. "Would you like me to massage your neck?" 

I narrow my eyes, considering. Usually, the last thing I would want is for him to touch me. But he _does_ seem to have soft hands and nimble fingers, and I don't think I'll get this out myself. I can be generous. 

"All right, then." 

He's almost as surprised as I am that I agreed. It takes him a second to react, and he lags as understanding sinks in. Then, he rises eagerly and walks behind me. I feel warm hands touch the back of my neck once they clear away any clothing and hair impeding them. Smooth circular motions work on the tense muscles. I close my eyes again. This isn't bad. 

"Did you figure it out?” I ask, relaxing.

"On how to contact the Devil? Not quite. But I do think I have a lead." I open my eyes and look at him over my shoulder. If he already does, that could be amazing. I could be out of here in no time. He stops and reaches for a book in the stack. He flips it open and places it in front of me. Illegible scribbles litter the margins. I turn a few pages and examine them, spotting a crude drawing a couple pages down of a… Palm Tree? I can't tell. He moves his hands back to my neck and continues working on it. "I don't know how much you know about me AC…" 

"A lot more than I want to, I can tell you."

He continues, as if he hadn't heard me. "But during the plague, I worked at the Palace to find a cure. Which, as it turned out, was useless for everyone involved because it just up and disappeared one day. Though, we can't remember how, why, or when exactly that was. But I digress. I worked here, along with a… certain plague doctor." I feel his hands tense as he says that, but soon, they release, continuing to work with my muscles. "A… Doctor Julian Devorak. That is his handwriting. I recognize it."

"Yeah? And what about it?" 

"That book you're holding is on the Occult. If you know Julian Devorak at all, you know it isn't like him to interest himself in Magic." Oh, I _know_ Julian Devorak. But even if I didn't, that's common knowledge to anyone in Vesuvia. The man is a star. "And the most peculiar thing is the subject matter in the book. Of all branches, it's on The Arcana."

I ponder the info for a second. Not bad. At least we have something to look into. "What's with the palm tree?” 

He peers over my shoulder at the drawing. "That's part of the reason I think Julian knows something. I don't think it's a palm tree, I think it's… The Hanged Man." 

I squint and turn the book to look at it from different angles. I really can't see it. Whatever, Asra knows this stuff so his guess is better then mine. 

"So, we locate Julian and ask him what he knows." I say. "Easy-peasy." I had a really tough start to yesterday, but it looks like everything is working itself out more quickly then I had imagined. I love when people do all the work for me. I start to feel my excitement rise as I think of being out of the Palace, finally freed after these (less than 24) excruciating (hours) in captivity.

Asra's hands stop massaging and move to settle on my shoulders. He did a good job, but now that his work is done, he can stop touching me. I open my mouth to comment when I suddenly feel two soft, warm, lips press to the back of my exposed neck. It sends a tingle up to my head and straight down to my toes. I stand up just as abruptly, turning on him and flipping open the blade in my pocket. I hold it to his chest, right above his heart. 

"Do you need a reminder?” I seethe. Try as I might to fight it, I feel my face begin to burn. What the hell _was that._ I dig the tip of my blade into his shirt a bit, cutting it open. Under this exact spot lies a scar : the one I gave him with this same knife in my last, desperate attempt to deter him from pursuing me. I still feel my cheeks flush as he gazes at me. He chuckles and fondly places his hand over the one that is digging the dagger into his peck. My face burns hotter again. I don't know if it's from being hungover, and my body being completely deregulated or what… Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with him.

My grip tightens on the knife, ready to strike, right as the library door opens again. In glides Nadia, trailed by Portia. She stops in her tracks, spotting the show-down. "Am I interrupting something?" 

“Yes." I respond. I hear Portia gasp and _feel_ Nadia's eyes narrow at my impudent response. "I was just about to stab this magician." 

She sighs, letting my back-talk drop without reprimand. "That will have to wait, I'm afraid. You are being summoned immediately to the tea room. We are having a meeting."

***

The four of us walk into the salon and five pairs of unfamiliar eyes turn to observe. 

"AC, let me introduce you to my court : Volta, Vlastomil, Vulgora, Valdemar and Valerius." Oh _hell no,_ I'm not remembering that. 

Four of them quickly occupy themselves with something else : the smallest one ravenously munches on finger sandwiches while a red, abrasive one harasses her. A slimy looking man seems to be feeding something in his pocket, and a green tinged person with unsettling eyes stands up and walks out of the room with no explanation. Are they… Gone? Could they just check out like that? I wish I could. The Countess doesn't even react to it. Only one pair of eyes study me scornfully. He has a long braid, rosy cheeks, and a bottle of wine in hand. 

Portia gathers a stack of empty trays in one hand and a few empty glass bottles in the other, then bows herself out of the room. Once she's gone, braid-y speaks. "Magician," he turns to me, swaying slightly. "I don't understand why you are on this case when you do not even have experience with tarot."

This guy gets it. "That's what _I've_ been saying!" I indicate him and turn to Nadia. 

He leers at me. "And so poorly mannered on top of that. Nadia, why on earth are you wasting time with this charity case?” He takes a swig from the bottle. 

Ugh, and he was so close to becoming my favorite person in the room. I hate these nobles. 

"I haven't quite gotten what I want out of them just yet." She turns her piercing regard to speculate me. I can see her attempt to reveal my secrets through her gaze. Strip me bare and keep me naked and exposed. 

She turns to the remaining courtiers. "Everyone," she calls out for their attention. They do not give it to her. "This is AC, my pet- I mean project- I mean, lead investigator."

I'm afraid rolling my eyes may be too obvious, even under the shades. To be more discrete, I mumble obscenities under my breath. I feel Asra get tenser as my list elongates. 

Suddenly, a secret door opens from the wall and out steps Count Goat, dressed in the fine attire he is seen sporting (as a man) in the many portraits that line the palace walls. He flicks his red, billowing cape behind himself. 

"My dear court!” he exclaims before turning to me. "AC…" he drawls, winking. He startles as soon as he notices Asra beside me. He walks over to Nadia, not taking his eyes off of him. His attempt to speak quietly is unfruitful, and we can hear every word out of his mouth. "Noddy, what did I say about inviting… _that_ magician…" 

She turns and pets his head. "Dear, I had to. I like AC as much as you, but they are too incompetent to handle this on their own." Okay, rude. But fair. "Besides, this way they'll have less work and more time with us to… Play." At her words, they both turn to me, grins growing on their lips. 

I open my mouth, steam billowing out of my ears, right before Asra begins coughing violently, pulling everyone's attention to himself. Between hacks, he pleads with me with his eyes. Yeah, yeah. I'll keep my big, proud mouth shut. 

"You may have wondered why I asked you all here today." Lucio struts into the middle of the room, throwing his cape out behind him while he does so. The courtiers that were ignoring Nadia all snap to attention before him. "As you know, AC is working diligently on finding a cure for this… Curse." He stops and pulls at the fur on his arm, suddenly lost in thought. He comes back to himself. "I have pondered how best to assist in this endeavor and I have realized it would be this." He turns to me and walks over, placing a goatly hand on my shoulder. He pauses, puffing up his chest grandly. "Good luck."

The room is silent after the words fall. Then, the courtiers sheepishly clap. 

Was that… it?

He spins around and whips me in the face with his cape as he goes, heading out the secret door. The courtiers file after him. Nadia smirks at me seductively before winking and exiting as well. Only Asra and I are left in the silence of the salon, accompanied by the steady tick of the grandfather clock.

Asra breaks through our stand-still. "I guess it's time to properly start on the investigation."


	5. 2. The Hanged Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rowdy Raven is now called the Crazy Corvid in this fic, simply because I have the artistic liberty to do that.

We walk through the South End. Asra jumps at every unexpected noise in the street, which are frequent here. I look at him out of the corner of my eye. 

“Will you _chill?”_ I ask.

“I’m sorry. I’m just n-not used to it around here.” He stutters as a harsh crash comes out of a dark alleyway. What a baby. 

I pick up the pace and he follows in tandem, afraid to lose me. “I’ve just… I’ve heard so many stories about the thug violence down here and I am-” he jumps again as another crash bounces off of the quiet cobbled streets. He trembles, eyes wide. “..I am just a little on edge.” I keep walking briskly but stop once I notice he is no longer on my heels. I turn to understand why.

He has completely froze, petrified by fear. I sigh deeply and back-track, reaching down to lace my fingers through his. He looks at where our hands meet before his eyes timidly rise to meet mine. 

“You’re being as useful to me as a sack of potatoes. Stop being such a dead-weight.” At that, I yank him forward, marching us toward the dig I had only vacated a few hours prior. My happy place : that ridiculously rowdy tavern. A smile comes to my lips as I relive the night. 

In all the time I have spent here searching, I only ran into Julian when I was with Portia. I am doubtful that I will locate him here again, but I have no other starting point. This is my best bet for now. 

Once we step into the tavern and are engulfed by the pervading ruckus and the yellow light, I brusquely drop Asra’s hand. I make my way over to the bar, ready to ask Barth for some intel, when I spot him : the sexy Pirate Doctor, encircled, as always, by a group of fans. He chats gallantly with everyone, surrounded by an excess of what I can only assume are free drinks. 

He _is_ here. Seeing him again makes me jitter with excitement. It’s been a long time since I’ve ever felt like this. Have I ever felt like this?

I march over to the crowd and elbow my way through. The last guy that is standing before me refuses to move, even as I try my best to slide past him. I put my hand to the side of his face and push him out of my way. 

Julian’s eyes go wide as soon as I appear. Setting my shades on the top of my head, I casually grab one of the many tankards from his table, bringing it up to my lips. 

“Were you waiting for me?” I ask.

His grin grows and he rises quickly, picking me up and spinning me around. I can feel the drink in my hand slosh out, which is followed by many angry gasps, probably from the victims caught under-fire. It makes this better. His arms are wrapped firmly under my thighs, holding me up and to him, while he puts his lips to mine and we smooch for a moment.

“Ahem.”

An annoying sound breaks through my dreamy encounter and I feel my temple throb. Not only is he a heavy, useless sack of potatoes, he’s a cock-blocker too. Julian and I break our lips apart and turn our heads to Asra. He's the only person that has stuck around, the rest of the group having dispersed once we got into our heavy pda. 

I glare while Julian ponders him, curious. I see recognition cross his face. He slowly sets me down, smiling at Asra.

"Oh, hey you." Julian says slyly. “Long time no see.”

At being recognized, the slightest tinge of pink comes to Asra’s cheeks. “It’s been a while, Ilya.”

Something feels… slightly awkward. I study how they both steal glances at one another and shuffle their feet. My mouth drops when clarity hits me. I point a finger at Asra, eyes wide and mouth gaping, before swiveling to point at Julian. _He_ got into _his_ pants??? It almost makes me respect Asra (if only slightly). I'd be jealous if I clearly wasn't the better choice. 

I drop my hand, shaking my head. "Julian," I say, getting back to more important matters. "We came to see you for the investigation." 

One of his eyebrows shoots into his hair at my words. "Oh? And how can I be of… further assistance?” He flashes me a cheeky grin, to which I laugh and push his shoulder lightly. Asra's eyes bore into me as I do so. 

"Not with _that_." I chuckle before composing myself. "I need you to tell me what you know about contacting the Arcana." 

He furrows his brow, "Might I suggest you ask that of your handsome companion? He's the one that likes to play with those silly cards."

"Tarot is one thing, speaking to a Major Arcana is another." Asra replies, suddenly hostile. "You know something dating back to our time working at the Palace."

Julian blinks before giving a diplomatic smile. “And how can you be so sure? I do not know anything about your world of hocus-pocus, Magician."

I hold the book on the Arcana out to him, flipping to the crude drawing. “Then how do you explain _this_?"

He looks at it, then at me, perplexed. "How do I explain... My sketch of a palm tree? I assume I was dreaming of the beach while at the office… ” 

I glance at Asra. Hanged-man my ass. Or maybe he's just deflecting. I flip to a page with his scribblings in the margins. "What about _this_ ? What do they say? They _are_ in a book on the Arcana.” 

He squints at the characters. "I don't know. I don't know how to read. "

I pause, stunned. That's the last thing I was expecting to hear. Asra's surprised face mirrors my own. I mumble to him out of the corner of my mouth.

"I thought you said this was his handwriting.”

He nods, equally confused. "It is, I recognize it from the Palace."

"Oh!" Julian exclaims. "Let me get Malak." He lets out a piercing whistle and a nervous bundle comes tumbling into the tavern through the open window, landing on Julian's shoulder. "Can you read these notes back to me?" he asks the raven. It squawks in response. 

Asra and I both freeze before giving each other a perplexed look. Julian notices and gives a laugh. 

"You didn't think I could read or write, did you? It is a source of pride in my culture to not read. I wasn't going to go against that. But Malak is the perfect assistant for that reason." 

"Your bird… Reads for you?” 

“He writes too." 

Asra and I gape at him and a laugh bursts from Julian once again. "You may have wondered why my handwriting looks like bird-scratches. That's because… it actually is." He continues chortling, finding himself hilarious. 

I glance at the book again. I guess… It makes sense? In a really out-there kind of way. 

"I suggest you both take a seat. There is a lot to work through." He indicates the chairs facing him. "I would order us a round, but… It seems there are already enough options on the table. Take your pick." 

I hand the book to Julian and Asra and I settle in, choosing from the many glasses before us. Julian listens intently to Malak, who is busy squawking in his ear. 

"How…" I whisper to Asra behind my glass, observing the bizarre spectacle. "How… did you not notice that he uses a _literate_ bird for note taking?” 

Also transfixed on what's transpiring before us, he whispers back to me. "Well I… I actually avoided Julian as much as I could at the Palace." 

"We were caught in a very exciting game of cat and mouse." Julian speaks suddenly, apparently having overheard. He glances up from the page in front of him and smiles at Asra provocatively. "But the Master Magician was far too slippery, always sliding right through my fingers once he had made me believe I had finally captured him."

Asra blinks at Julian for a second, before a small smirk grows on his lips. “I could tell how much you liked the chase. I simply couldn’t deprive you of that.”

Did they just flirt in front of me? That has never happened before. All pent-up sexual energy is usually directed toward me when I’m one of the options available. I am nothing short of astounded. As annoying as it is to always be the center of affection, I don’t know if I like this alternative either.

“So, what does it say?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Oh…” Julian clears his throat awkwardly as Malak continues cawing. “Most of them are… sleep-deprived ramblings.” He avoids my eyes as he speaks. Suddenly, he lights up once again. “But _this_ will probably be of use!” He listens more closely to Malak, then translates. “You may have been onto something after all. It says right here that I… I _spoke to the Hanged Man._ ”

Asra and I look at each other. “And how did you do that?” I question.

“According to what Malak wrote, I was on death’s door or something.” He chuckles.

I stand up rapidly, fearful. “Nope, _absolutely_ _not_. If Nadia knows _that’s_ an option she _will_ use it to try to get me to speak to the Devil. And she’ll enjoy it. Come, Asra. We’re finding something else.” I glare down at him. “If you bring this up to the Count or Countess I _will_ take you down with me.”

His face breaks into a wide smile and he jumps up, beaming. “Wow, you would do that??”

Damn, I’m dense. Although it is the afterlife, I just indicated I would _willingly_ take him somewhere. I shiver at the prospect.

“Well, if I could be of service…” Noticing my attention has turned to Asra, Julian cuts in. “I may have a very interesting… let’s say... _party trick,_ that could help with this endeavor.”

I snort. “Julian, I adore you, but I saw all of your party tricks last night. There is nothing that any of them can do for this situation.”

He raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh ho ho. That’s where you are wrong, my dear.” He stands quickly, making Malak bolt off of his shoulder and out the window again. He pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flips it open, placing his other palm down on the surface of the table. He drives the blade straight through the back of his hand and into the wood below. Asra and I scream in unison.

Coming back from the initial terror, I yell at him at the top of my lungs. “JULIAN, WHAT THE HELL-”

He holds up his other unpinned hand, cutting me off. He yanks the blade out, cringing in pain, before slowly bringing up his mangled hand to show us. Blood pours down from the wound and into his sleeve. Then, before my eyes, the injury heals as a shiny insignia glows on his neck. 

And… it’s gone. Blood is the only lingering evidence that the man just stabbed himself. So horrified about what we just witnessed, Asra and I hadn’t noticed how silent the tavern had become. But then, clapping breaks through it. Awed spectators give a standing ovation to Julian. He turns to them, as if noticing them for the first time, to humbly bow. People come up to shake his hands.

“Julia-” I try to get him back to us, but he is quickly swarmed. Stomping over to the group, I elbow my way through again and grab firmly onto his wrist to pull him after me. I shove people out of the way. “Asra!” I yell. “Keep up!

He follows me and we escort Julian outside, slamming the tavern door behind us. The both of us lean up against it to stop the patrons from coming outside. They put up one hell of a fight, though.

“Julian,” I pant under the effort to contain the rabid crowd. “Healing from a stab wound is different from healing from a near-death experience, and I-- OH, for GOD’S SAKE-” I yell out incantations and the door slams firmly shut behind us. The people on the inside start banging on it, cursing at me angrily, but it doesn’t budge.

I walk up to him while Asra continues to lean against the door, catching his breath. “And, last time, you only spoke to the Hanged Man. Nothing guarantees that you would be able to speak to the Devil.” 

“Eh,” he shrugs his shoulders. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

I stare at him. “You could, like, die?”

He shrugs again. Is he just overly brave? Or fatalistic? Either way, I can’t quite tell if it turns me on or off. Maybe both.

Malak zooms out of the darkness of the night, cawing loudly. Julian’s eyes widen as a large, crazed grin comes to his lips. He turns to me, excitement written all over his face. “The Palace Guards are coming.”


	6. 3. The Tower

Heavy-booted footsteps begin echoing down the side streets, closing in all around us. "Well, that's my cue. Time to make myself scarce." Julian sprints away, the sound of his heeled steps rapidly fading. I hesitate for a moment, heart racing, before booking it after him.

"AC!" Asra yells after me, planted in front of the tavern. "Why are you running? You're not a convict!" 

"Because, Asra!" I shout as I whip away. "Not running would be the _loser_ thing to do and I, unlike you, am _not_ a loser." I flip him off before turning around the corner, hot on Julian's heels. We turn this way and that, losing ourselves in the winding streets, and hopefully losing the royal guard in the process. We finally stop in a secluded corner of an isolated path to catch our breath.

I look at him fondly while I pant. That was exhilarating. He’s everything I thought he would be. “Julian, I-” I’m about to unveil my heart, showing my hand and leaving myself vulnerable. But divine intervention prevents me from doing just that, and not a moment too soon. 

I am hit by a brute force in my lower abdomen, so strong that I spit up blood. I bring a hand up to my mouth, then pull it away, pondering the red substance. I’ve seen this come out of others, but… my mind can't associate that it’s my own. I meet Julian’s eyes, which have gone wide in shock. Suddenly weak, I fall forward. He grabs ahold of me, preventing my tumble to the ground.

"What hit me?” I murmur. I follow his eyes, leading down to the spot where I was impacted. Something pointy sticks out there. When I twist around, my mind finally registers the back half of whatever is impaling me : an arrow. 

The sound of guards clashing with a group of ruffians echos from a parallel street. "Damn thug violence," I mumble. 

He drags me away from the fighting and down a side street. "Come on, we have to move." The initial shock of being impaled is wearing off and I feel the pain deep in my core, twisting and growing with every step. 

"Stop!” I cry out. "I can't stand this anymore!" I grab the back of the arrow and yank it out with a scream. Blood gushes from me, replacing its previous steady trickle. 

"AC!” Julian yells. "You never recklessly pull out whatever is impaling you! You could bleed out here!" 

I go completely limp in his arms under the acute pain; too weak to hold my body up like before. 

"Just leave me here to die," I whisper. 

I had a great run. At the very least, I'll die in the midst of chaos, young and beautiful, instead of old and boring and in my bed as I always feared. And in the arms of _such_ a man too. Maybe he'll tell stories about me. About the love we shared. I start to well up with tears at that tragic thought. He'll never be able to love again, after me, not really. Especially not after the devastating way he lost me. But he'll try : he'll get married and start a family, but there will always be that part of him, that part that knows I'm missing, that haunts him in his soul. And he'll tell his grandchildren stories of us, about how-

"You're not dying here." He helps me down to the ground and lays me there. Removing a glove from one hand, he slips it into my shirt to place it over the wound. He cradles my head with the other. I feel tears drip from my eyes as he watches me sympathetically. "From the pain?” 

I'm caught off guard and buffer for a moment. I can't tell him that I'm crying for him, thinking about the absence I'll create when I'm gone. 

"Yes." I lie before closing my eyes. "I can't _believe_ this never deterred Asra." I sniffle. "Hurts like hell."

But slowly, the pain fades and disappears completely. "What did you do?" I ask, opening my eyes to look up at him. 

"All thanks to my little party trick," he smiles. I Iift my shirt and see that the wound is all gone. 

I slowly sit up before rising to my feet. "That is quite the trick." I wipe my eyes, putting an end to my emotional outburst. It's very unlike me to show so much weakness. "We can keep going now." 

Julian attempts to get up but collapses back on the ground, crying out and gripping his abdomen. There, I see it : the red stain that is slowly seeping into his clothes, in the exact spot where my blood now dries. He took the wound from me. 

"I don't think I-" He moans softly, eyes closed and face crinkled up in agony. And yet, the corners of his lips turn up, as if he is repressing a smile. I study him for a moment. 

He moves to get up again, but I'm quicker. I place one of my feet to his chest, preventing him from rising. "You seem to be enjoying this a little too much," I remark. 

His eyes snap open and watch me intently. Then I take my foot and place it directly over the wound, stepping on him. He moans more forcefully. I quickly lean down and cover his mouth with my hand, still digging my foot into him. 

"Careful now, the guards will find us." I can feel the fire burning behind his eyes as he watches me. I almost laugh. Why is he like this? Whatever it is, it's entertaining as hell.

I remove my foot and place it on the other side of him, then I sit back down, straddling him. His laborious breathing only deepens as I bring my lips near millimetres away from his. Then, more shouts and booted footsteps echo in a perpendicular street. I quickly get up and help him to his feet before he dashes away and I follow. 

Left, left, right, forward and right we go. The dark buildings zoom in my peripheral. Julian stops before a window of a small house, pushing it open. He clasps his hands together to help me climb inside. I turn around to haul him in after me when I realize… He's gone. My mind does a double-take before I slowly approach the window, peering out for where he went. Then, the door to my left opens and he walks inside. 

I stare at him. "Why didn't you go through the window?” I ask. 

"And get my ear chewed off by the woman in charge here? Absolutely not. She's expressly forbidden me from doing that again, claiming that the last time I did, my long stature caused irreversible damage to one of her plants."

"Then why didn't _I_ go through the door?” 

"I thought it would be more fun this way." 

I snort. He's not wrong. 

"Now…" He purrs. He begins to remove his gloves as he saunters over to me, smizing. "Let's continue where we left off…" 

Before we can fully close the space between us, a hard thwack hits the side of both of our heads. Then, nails dig into each of our ears, pulling us down. "I _told_ you to stop bringing your booty calls here, Ilya." I swivel my eyes to see a stout woman is the one pinching our earlobes, fuming. 

"But this isn't a regular booty call, Mazelinka," he pleads. 

"I don't care. I'm putting my foot down." She opens the door and pushes us onto the street, slamming it behind us. 

Once I come back from the shock, a laugh bursts from me and through the still, night air. I quickly cover my mouth when I get a glimpse of Julian's vexed face. 

"Well," I say, trying my best to repress another giggle. "I guess it's time to call it a night. " 

It doesn't take long for Julian to recuperate, and he's quickly back to his eager self. He takes one of my hands and holds it to his chest. "No need, we can always find a more reclusive spot in the many shadows of the South End…” 

I can't stop my laugh this time. Then, I sigh. "As genuinely enticing as that is, I really need to get back to the Palace." Ugh, I can't believe I'm saying that. I've already spoiled my good mood from being so responsible. 

His eyes go wide. "No, No! You must stay with me, the night is far too young!"

I furrow my brow. "Don't make this harder than it already is. I really have to solve this or I'll never get the Count and Countess off of my back." He studies me intently before opening his mouth to retort. I place a finger to his lips. "Besides, a little delayed gratification is never bad." 

His contemplative expression breaks into a grin. "It's only the bane of my existence." 

I chuckle while he kisses every inch of my hand. Then, gathering all my strength, I push away. 

I call over my shoulder to him. "See you around, Doctor. If fate will have it." 

I feel his eyes follow me as I disappear into the shadows. 

***

"I heard your interrogation of the doctor was unfruitful… that you found no new leads on how to contact the Arcana." 

It's early the next day and Nadia invited both Asra and I into her room for breakfast. As I had guessed, due to my unfortunate four hour nap on the table in the library yesterday, I am unable to move my neck at all. I feel like a flag pole with how rigid my stance is. 

I respond, awkwardly buttering my slice of bread. "Yes, that is correct." 

"Don't lie to me. That was a test. The Magician told me everything."

Not taking the effort to pivot my whole body to glare at Asra, I simply do so out of the corner of my eye. He refuses to look at me. What a chicken. And a tattle-tale on top of it. He and Portia should start their Countess Butt-Kissing Club together. They're well matched. 

"Let me reassure you that I'll make you go to no such extremes to contact the Devil." I almost sigh in relief. "That is… not until all other means are expended."

Great. So she _is_ going to kill me, or at least try to, and it's all going to be Asra's fault. I would have preferred to have died in Julian's arms last night. I'm sure whatever she'll think up to bring me to death's door will be painful. 

"Luckily for you, Lucio has recovered a few memories. We have another idea as to how we may be able to contact the Devil. Dear," I swivel around to try to understand who she is addressing and realize… it's Asra? "You don't need to stay, I already explained everything to you last night." She walks over to him and leans down to place a fat kiss on his mouth. I choke into my teacup. "Feel free to take the day off to wander wherever you please." She gives him a warm smile and runs her long fingers through his curls before he stands and shoulders his bag, exiting the room. I watch her scrutinize him before her piercing gaze turns to me. 

Now that I think about it, Asra was already here when I first arrived. How… can he get so busy? First Julian, now Nadia… and they're all going after me too. I've never had people in the same social circle chase after me. And I especially haven't had them simultaneously want to get into my pants just as much as they've wanted to get into each other's. This is feeling weirder and weirder. 

"Now, about you. As I was saying-" 

At that, a side entrance opens and in strolls Goat Lucio. "Noddy!" he exclaims. He flips his cape behind him, then twirls around with a flourish. He stops beside her and gives her a kiss. 

Yeah, that's repulsive. I imagine feeling those furry lips on my own and I squirm in my seat. Please, god, don't drag me any deeper into this. 

"I was just about to explain our new lead to AC." 

"Ah, wonderful!" he beams at her. "Let me take it over from here, dear lover." 

He flips a chair around and sits on it backward, his legs spread in a power-pose. "AC…" he drawls. "You'll be happy to know, I used my big brain to remember details of the night that _this_ happened." He indicates his whole self. "It was at my birthday celebration, the Masquerade." He places his claws behind his head and leans back, self-satisfied. "So, there you have it. We're throwing one- the first one in three years- to recreate the setting. And from there, hopefully memories will be stirred. Or... maybe we have a surprise guest." He smiles at me cheerfully. 

"Are you suggesting a Major Arcana would want to come to your birthday party unprompted?" 

He shrugs. "We never know. Can't remember the first time this happened so I'm not knocking on anything." 

I'm skeptical, but it looks like I'm not going to have to do any more work if we simply follow his idea. And at the very least it'll delay the Countess from attempting to bring me close to death. "That makes sense," I lie. 

He perks up. "Of course it does, I'm brilliant. But it is nice to hear it from you." He shakes back his head and fixes me with his eyes. "The Masquerade begins in a few days. Be prepared." 

"For what exactly?” 

"I don't know, just be prepared."

All at once, furious stomping echos down the halls, just outside of Nadia's chamber. We lock eyes with each other in fear. I quickly grab the table cloth, flip everything out and onto the floor, and throw it over Lucio. It's too obvious that there is someone sitting there, but nobody will see who, or _what,_ it is. 

"Milady!!” the Chamberlain bursts into the room. He hunches over, hands on his knees to regather his breath, before looking back at us. At noticing the figure sitting under the cloth, and the remnants of our breakfast all over the floor, a perplexed expression comes to his face.

"State exactly why you interrupted my breakfast, Chamberlain." 

He shakes the confusion out of his eyes and continues. "Oh it's terrible Milady, scandalous, horrifying!!” he trembles. 

"What _is_ it? Spit it out, we have other more important matters to attend to than listen to your incessant prattle."

"In the g-garden," he stutters, eyes wide. "The murdering convict, Doctor Julian Devorak, has appeared in the Palace Gardens.”


	7. 4. Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finding fitting tarot names for titles is actually more work than I thought it would be. I shouldn't have signed up for this.  
> Also, this is not my favorite chapter and I couldn't figure out why until i realized... it felt like it happened exactly like this in the book. No lie. You'll see what I mean.

"I did this to save you, my dear. "

I’m interrogating Julian through the dungeon door. I almost lost it when I heard what he had stupidly done. But here he is, looking at me sweetly and making me feel very conflicted. I grasp the bars and peer in at him. "Julian, literally nobody asked you to do that." I absentmindedly rub my stuck neck and stiff shoulders. "You're making me feel… Many things right now." 

He batts his eyelashes. "How so?” 

“Well, on the one hand… Your fearlessness has never made you sexier. I want nothing more than to stick my tongue down your throat." He sputters at my words. I don't leave him anytime to process. "But on the other hand, I am absolutely _infuriated_ with you. I _can’t believe_ you expressly went against what I asked of you, and have now put yourself in this position. I mean, I just have to know : are you dumb??” 

He grins. “Extremely." 

I had to beg Nadia not to send him to the gallows immediately, claiming she _couldn't act suspiciously or she may put herself, or more importantly, her husband_ at risk. When I suggested that there had to be another way, she came up with the idea of a public trial, but claimed _I'd_ be the one to defend him, and that I would… _owe_ her for her troubles. I feel my mouth become dry at that prospect. I'm really sticking my neck out for this guy.

I point a finger in his face and glare at him. "Don't mess this up for me, Bub."

"I wouldn't dream of it." 

I'll save his life and then we'll be even. It's fine, I have this under control. I walk up the stairs and am hit by the roar of the spectators from above. As I take my place on my stand, I chew at my nail while my stomach ties itself in knots. 

"Order, Order!!" it's that slimy, wormy looking courtier that I met in the salon. One of the Vs. He's apparently a judge. He frantically attempts to calm the crowd, which is understandably proving difficult. After all, Aivusev's sexiest dark night is about to meet his fate for his alleged murder of the Count. This is _the_ event of the City. Of course everyone's going insane. 

The roar only worsens as Julian is escorted out of the dungeon in chains. When he reaches his stand, someone throws a brassiere at him. 

He laughs charmingly and picks it up. When he holds up a hand, the stands go instantly silent, awaiting his command.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but this isn't in my size." 

Howling rips through the colosseum. V-whatever calls for order again and everyone ignores him. That is, until Julian holds up his hand and the crowd goes completely silent again. Slimy clears his throat, abashed. "Um, thank you, Mr Devorak. Now," he slowly raises his gavel. "The trial will commence. Defending Doctor Devorak is the lead investigator into the incident, AC. Arguing against is Consul Valerius." 

Right, that was that drunk's name. He's standing on a separate stand, swaying under the heat of the sun. He looks rather unwell, and completely lost without a bottle of wine in hand. 

"Now, we will start with the arguments of the defendant." Slime-man finally brings the gavel down and I feel hundreds of eyes turn to me. I take a shaky breath under their gaze as beads of sweat drip down my brow. Boy, is it hot today. My eyes flit to Julian and he gives me a reassuring smile. I clear my throat. 

"Basically, your uh, honor… I have come to find that during my investigation…" I trail off, my mind drawing a total blank. 

What.. What was the story we had all agreed on with Nadia and Lucio?? I start to panic, unable to remember. I squeeze my eyes shut and bring my hands up to press on my temples, trying to clear my mind while my anxiety only seems to aggravate everything. 

I take a few breaths and… it miraculously comes to me. Sort of. "Ju- I mean, Doctor Devorak, was locked in his office in the bottom floor of the Palace by his boss since he... since he was… behind on his paperwork? As a result, he could not have murdered the Count." There was more. I scratch my head, thinking. Seconds feel like hours as hundred of eyes continue to dig into me. "On top of it all, there were no witnesses that saw him fleeing the scene of the crime. Plus…. PLUS ! Thug violence was very ardent in that season, so it appears that a ruffian… _may_ have snuck into the palace, and uh… and finished off the Count. Case and point." I end my statement with that pathetic attempt at finality. 

Wormy strokes his goatee pensively. "Very convincing arguments." I sigh a little. That's right, this should be a shoe-in. The Court said they would aid me as long as it's feasible and will not endanger the Count and Countess. "Now, let us hear from Consul Valerius. Consul?” 

But the Consul is unresponsive. He's trembling violently now, more sweaty than before. This guy is definitely going through withdrawals. His eyes flit around. 

"I would… I-". He licks his lips. "Oh, I am simply _too_ parched." He turns tail and rushes out of the stadium. 

Only a stunned silence follows.

He has officially made himself my favorite courtier. We had a rocky start, but that was nothing short of brilliant. Was it on purpose? I'm doubtful. But without the prosecution we _can't_ lose. 

"Well," Slimy says. "It appears that we will have to base our decision off of the defense. Let us have a vote." Oh, this is too good. I wipe the sweat off of my face and smile to myself. Thank god for that alcoholic. 

And yet, I feel all eyes silently turn to the stand next to me. I follow them. There, Julian stands with his hand in the air. What is he-? 

“I would like to aid the prosecution in their arguments against me, your honor." I feel my mouth drop to the floor. Nu-UH, he is NOT doing what I think he's doing. "I am assuming that the Consul would have evoked the fact that I did, in fact, confess to the crime." I cannot pick my jaw back up. I feel the whole stadium on the edge of their seats, gripping to every single one of his words.

I sputter, then frantically jump in in an attempt to save this. "But you _did_ admit, _later_ , that you were _coerced_ by the same ruffian that murdered the Count." My voice cracks as my panic grows.

He turns to me, sneering. "I did no such thing. Actually, I showed up at the Palace again because it was time to turn myself in for the crime that _I did in fact commit_." He makes a dramatic pause to allow the whole stadium to gasp. My jaw is on the floor again. He's not stopping. "And I did it for love." He turns to the box where Nadia sits regally while Portia fans her. Or shall I say, while Portia _was_ fanning her. She has stopped, shocked motionless. When I see her, I feel like I'm looking into a mirror. "Nadia, I loved you. I wanted you all to myself." A louder gasp than before. He turns back to the crowd. "There, I confessed to the crime and gave a clear motive. The truth is clear : I murdered the Count." 

Nadia quickly stands in her box, gripping the railing, as the whole crowd descends into a frenzy. Debates soon turn into fist-fights. Julian is quickly dragged back into the dungeon as people rush him. Not out of anger, no. It's another batch of his adoring fans. Guards attempt to restrain them. 

As the chaos continues around me, my shock slowly makes way to visceral anger and I turn to pound down the stone steps and into the dungeon below. The two guards that brought him here attempt to stand in my way from the cell beyond, but I simply glare at them in my full, frustrated fury and they wither away on the spot. The braver one fumbles with the keys and quickly unlocks the cell door for me. I throw it open, stomping into the cell beyond. Julian startles as he looks up at me, then quickly breaks into his jaunty grin. 

"How lovely it is for you to visit me, dear." 

I am upon him in a second, shaking him by the collar. " _WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"_

He startles at my outburst, but composes himself, continuing just as jovially as before. "I put up a good show, didn't I? I had everyone convinced I actually murdered the Count. I almost believed it myself."

I grab the loose chain shackling one of his wrists to the wall and wrap it around his neck, pulling. " _BOY, YOU CAN QUIT EXHAUSTING YOURSELF WITH THOSE THEATRICS. I CAN END IT ALL HERE."_

His breathing cuts as his airway is restricted. I realize I am letting my anger take this too far and I quickly release him. When he regathers his breath, he gives me a satisfied grin ; color stretching from his ears all the way to his nose. "Darling, I thought you would never offer." 

I scream at the top of my lungs. He really does want me to kill him. What the fuck is wrong with this guy. Threatening bodily injury, and even worse, _causing_ it, only seems to excite him. I can't imagine what my threatened assassination is churning up on his insides. 

I breathe angrily and aggressively message my neck again, thinking. This is getting nowhere. My grasp on this situation is slipping. And this calls for a change in strategy.

He took me for a fool, and I _never_ let _anyone_ take me for a fool. He can think he's got this for now, but it will be short-lived. I ALWAYS come out on top. 

I grab him by the front of his shirt and pull him into a straight-backed sitting position. I start to whisper to him, low and menacing. 

"If that's what you want so bad, guess what? It's your lucky day. I'm going to give it to you." I keep my voice so low that I have to be centimeters away from him, breathing on his neck, for him to hear it. I can feel his breathing get heavier with each puff of air that escapes my mouth and caresses his skin. 

I lick the side of his face to assert dominance, then bring my mouth even closer to his ear, breathing the next words straight into his eardrum. "But I don't think you'll be able to handle it." I run a hand through his hair and stop it, clamping onto his curls and pulling his face away from me. "Should have been careful with what you wished for." 

His face is bright red again. But for the very first time, he is stunned speechless. I strut away and up the stairs, passing the guards that were ogling at the spectacle before them. The braver one lets out a low whistle. Hit by another glare, he quickly shuts up. 

I hear the rowdy crowd as soon as I exit from the shadowy depths and am hit by the sunlight. It looks like the guards managed to get the crowd under control and back into their seats. Cheering and jeering all mix into one, loud racket. 

I take my place on my stand and wait, crossing my arms and tapping my foot impatiently. The crowd screams louder as Julian is escorted back. I refuse to look at him. I am sure he is using his debonair smile to make all the hearts in the stadium waver. And yet, the outcome of this was decided once he chose to go against me. 

Once he is settled and the guards regress, Wormy raps his gavel animatedly, calling for order again. "Now," he says as the sound of the din dims slightly. "Any last words before this trial adjourns?" 

Poised, I raise my hand. Worm-man grants me permission to speak. “Only this. Citizens of Aivusev,” I make a slow turn, holding my arms out wide and addressing the spectators above. “I retract all of my previous statements.” I lower my arms and look straight at Julian. “I can no longer allow myself to defend a guilty man. Doctor Devorak did indeed murder the count.” 

The crowd freezes. Then, the uproar starts, louder and more aggressive than before. There is no hiding the astonishment on Julian’s face. What did he think was going to happen? This is exactly what he set himself up for. He should be grateful. I cross my arms and turn my nose up at him, at least, in spirit.

“This is… quite the turn of events!” V-slimy exclaims. The roaring of the crowd grows, almost the point where I can no longer hear him. “Do my ears deceive me? Does the defense now claim that the accused is _guilty_?”

I refuse to look at Julian again, but I can feel his eyes digging into me. From gratitude, shock, sadness, or what, I don’t know. I doubt he does either. "Oh yeah, he's totally guilty. I've been convinced of the error of my ways."

"Well, then. I guess we have no other choice but to declare the charged... GUILTY." 

Under the scream, I turn back to Julian’s feverish gaze. He looks like he's been slapped. I throw up a peace sign as they drag him back toward the dungeons. He was tasty while it lasted, but I know when to call it quits. There's no saving this guy if he isn't willing to do it himself. I brush my hands together, unfazed. Time to move onto the next thing. 

"Wait!" A voice manages to cut through the racket in the arena. Miraculously, everyone hears and goes silent. The guards stop pulling Julian to the dungeons and we all turn to see… Asra. Dear god, what is he doing?

"In order to decide if the accused is guilty, I propose a trial by combat!" 

Slime-man blinks down at him in concordance. "The trial has already concluded, Magician." 

God, Asra, learn to read a room. Or in this case, a stadium.

But then, behind him, out steps a hulking figure. When my eyes adjust, I see it is none other than the Scourge of the South dressed in his full combat gear. I have to stop the drool from spilling out of my mouth the instant my eyes take sight of him. I'm not the only one. 

That was perfect timing. He'll do. I smile to myself as my mind races with plans for my new conquest. 

That aggressive, red courtier from the salon appears out of literal nowhere. “Uh-UH." They push Slime-ball out of the way in a hostile take-over. "THE DOCTOR MAY HAVE BEEN PROVEN GUILTY, BUT THIS TRIAL IS FAR FROM OVER. THAT IS, UNTIL I SEE LYING SCUM CRUSHED TO DUST.” I swivel away from the Scourge and turn to that bellicose, annoying sound. I am met by a clawed digit pointing straight at me. “YOUR TIME TO SHINE, INSIGNIFICANT BUG.”


	8. 5. The Chariot

The arena goes completely silent again. A few coughs are the only sound that echo from the stands as everyone looks between me and the courtier that just affronted me, searching for comprehension. 

I swivel to lock eyes with Nadia. She releases the railing and offers me nothing more than a simple shrug. 

"Excuse-me?" I turn back to that abrasive red banshee. 

"THAT'S RIGHT. IF THE DOCTOR IS GUILTY, AS YOU NOW CLAIM, YOU WERE LYING WHEN YOU FIRST DEFENDED HIM." They clasp their hands in front of their face, boring their eyes into me over them. "I SAY : HOW DARE YOU LIE TO THE PEOPLE. THEY DESERVE JUSTICE!”

They raise a clamped fist high in the air, a manic smile revealing barred teeth. 

I gape at them along with the rest of the crowd. Then, the latter turns on me. Enter the opportunity of a good fight, and it will only take a second for the bloodlust to take over. It happens in an instant : suddenly, they are cheering for my battle, and ultimate death, at the hands of the Scourge. My heart begins beating so frantically that I'm terrified it will pop out of my chest. 

I swivel to Nadia again (this time in an utter panic) for guidance. She only offers me another shrug before sitting back down, observing what will transpire. I'm on my own, then. 

I crouch into a tight ball on the floor of the arena and cover my ears with my hands, trying my best to squeeze out all the noise and give my brain some space to _think._

Afraid my heart will give out, I take a few choppy breaths. And there, I remember…

I'm _me._

I can not only handle this, but can use it to my advantage. I can turn everyone back in my favor, and get the Scourge to kneel at my feet while I do so. I just have to believe it myself.

I rise to my feet and turn to him. I do my best to give him a salacious one-over with my stuck neck. I take my time before stopping. 

Then, I smirk at him. 

"I hope he'll crush me." I lick my lips sultrily and give him a wink. 

The stadium has a delayed reaction, but soon howls with laughter at my statement.

The Scourge blinks down at me as V-slimy continues his announcing. "It appears that the newly accused has accepted the challenge!" 

The stadium roars at those words. Out from the sidelines, I am suddenly swarmed by a gaggle of attendants. They take me into a room and begin to undress and dress me once more. It happens so quickly my brain barely has time to register what is going on, and I am back on the sand a few seconds later, blinking and dazed in the sunlight.

When I come back to myself, I inspect my clothing. I'm in the skimpiest outfit I've ever worn : it's probably the worst outfit to fight in that's ever existed. One false move and I will flash the whole stadium. I might as well be naked. It would be less problematic.

The Scourge glowers down at me and cracks his neck. Once he's done glaring, he turns to the stands. 

"Let's get STARTED!” he bellows. He raises his arms high above his head and runs around the arena, pumping everyone up. His crowd work is always amazing. He _lives_ off the adrenaline from it. And, damn, is it hot to see. 

I almost get so lost in the spectacle before me that I forget that _I'm_ his victim _._ I regather my thoughts and brainstorm. 

I have a few tricks up my sleeve, and I'll have to use all of them if I want to get out of this. There's no way I'll beat him in brawn : the man is a Half-God that could face Hercules himself. And, for now, we're pretty evenly matched when it comes to sex appeal. 

But I'm going to use my brilliant brain to outshine him in the eyes of the crowd. And by crushing his soul with it, I'll win not just the battle, but his heart. Big, beefy-boys like him always put up a show of sadism, but they're just waiting for someone to come along to hand their ass to them. 

I'm the perfect person for that job. 

Now to put my plan into action. 

I lick my lips under the sweltering sun and clear my throat. The terrain must be magically reinforced, because I can hear my cough echo over the whole stadium ; effectively interrupting the Scourge's crowd work. The spectators stop cheering and turn to me. The Scourge follows, perplexion all over his face. 

I bat my eyelashes at him when our eyes meet. "If you _do_ want to get started, maybe you should stop running around and get to it, babes?” 

The crowd whistles and hollers in encouragement. Emboldened by their support, I become even more insolent. I smirk at him again. "Unless… those words were all for show? " 

The second it comes out of my mouth, even I know it's overkill. That last comment makes him spring into action. His confused expression falls into rage and he charges me like an angry hippo. 

My brain lags. By the time it catches up, I only manage to spin around in a feeble attempt to sprint away. Before I can go any further, though, he grabs me by the back of my neck.

I choke under his firm grip. He takes his free, opposite arm and loops it though mine, placing a large palm to the back of my head. He releases the back of my neck with his one hand and starts pushing my head forward with his other, all the while locking my body in place. I have a second to scream before I feel a huge _pop_ in my spine and go completely numb from the neck down. 

I collapse to the floor in a heap. 

"YEAHHH!!” he bellows, turning back to the crowd for a victory lap.

I shouldn't have opened my fat mouth. I'm dead now. Not yet, but when my slow, stupid, brain catches up to my snapped neck, I will be. 

The crowd is split. Some holler in triumph along with the Scourge, while others boo. They're probably upset at how fast the show was. If I were in the stands, I would have been too. That was pathetic. 

As the moments inch on, I miraculously don't die. Instead, I wiggle my toes. I stir as I take control of my body once more. Slowly, I pull myself into a kneeling position. 

The crowd roars, noticing that I am (in fact) alive, and not at the very least paralyzed. As I kneel, head down, I realize one miraculous fact : I can move my neck again.

I slowly roll my head and bring it up to lock eyes with the Scourge from across the stadium. He looks at me, utterly astounded. I offer him a smile. 

"I have to thank you," I say. "I had a nasty kink in my neck all day, and you worked it right out. You should consider another profession." A laugh from the crowd. "For future reference, though, I wouldn't mind if you choked me a little longer." I bring my hand up to my mouth and blow him a kiss. Then, I glare up at him. "Enough fun."

I rise fully to my feet and yell as strands of energy burst from my hands, solidifying and inter-weaving themselves. The crowd gasps in awe as the light show continues. 

I grasp one end of the solidified strands as the other drops to the ground. Done with my creation, I smirk again. I'm holding stunning, glittering chains. I flick them, allowing their shine to ripple further under the intense sun. 

I bore my eyes into the Scourge as I do so. "What do you say… would you like to give them a try?” I give them a suggestive flick. More whistling and clapping ensues. His eyes narrow as he charges me again. I whip one of my chains toward his bare leg in response, but he dodges quickly, barely missing it. 

Shaking the glimmer of perplexion out of his eyes, he charges from a different angle. I respond in suit. Our tango continues : him attempting an affront, and me defending by aiming for one of his legs in turn. Finally frustrated by our dance, he blocks one of my chains with a meaty arm and wraps it in his grip. 

I'm taken aback by his offense. It's risky and leaves him far too exposed. He smirks at my surprise, thinking he's figured me all out and the victory is won. That I'm all bluff. 

He yanks the chain, pulling me forward, and I fall to the ground almost effortlessly. As he continues to tug, dragging me closer and closer to him, I scramble. I feel the shawl attached around my hips begin to slip as I'm dragged along. No time to fix it now. I manage to get my feet out in front of me in a frantic attempt to push backward and away from the monster before. But his smile widens as I slide toward him on the dirt, his victory seemingly inevitable. 

He hasn't pieced me all together just yet. I'll have to act fast to make this work. 

I flick my other chain and have it hit a pole on the other side of the arena. It wraps around the base, securing itself, and myself, in the process. The Scourge's steady tugging wavers only for a moment, allowing enough time to pull myself up and plant my feet as firmly as I can. But that reprieve does not last long. He begins pulling again, even more forcefully than before.

I scream out in pain, feeling like I'll lose my arm to the pole I've chained it to. As the pain becomes more acute, I'm fearful I'll vomit, black-out, or both. But I'm as stubborn as a mule. I can't relent because _that's just what we do._ It's a question of principle, really. Also, and less importantly, I _will_ die if I do. 

I scream again, not just from pain, but to activate my power. At that, magic courses through my veins. It spills out of all my pores ; dripping from the skin on my face, arms, and chest like liquid silver. It runs up the chain linking me and the Scrouge. 

He reacts too late : by the time he realizes he should have dropped his end, I've thoroughly secured it around his hand. He attempts to escape like a wild animal, but he's caught in my trap. 

The silver magic that spills from me reaches him. It runs haphazardly all over his body. Soon he is covered in squiggly lines, squirming like a mass of worms. 

The chanting soon falls from my lips and the lines snap to attention, rapidly coalescing and forming new chains around him under my instruction. Under the weight of them, he falls to his knees. I continue my commands, having them bind and squeeze until he is unable to move. The onslaught continues while he resists as best as he can. Yet, it quickly becomes futile : he is completely overpowered. 

He lets out one final roar that reverberates through the stands. He swings his head around in anger before closing his eyes and hanging his head, submitting to his fate. 

His arms are locked behind him ; his knees dig into the dirt below. Every inch of his body is overrun with my silver, glittering chains. They vary in size, going from the width of my pinky to the width of my arm. 

Finally safe, I drop the chains I was still holding onto and they evaporate into the air, gone like a wisp of smoke. I bend over, completely winded. I can't believe that actually worked. I've only manifested chains in bed. Who would have known they would be such an impressive fighting tool. It almost took everything out of me, though. 

But I can't stay winded forever ; the show still goes on. And what a show it has become. I take a few rejuvenating breaths and, while I do, I begin to feel an... unexpected breeze on my behind. That's when I realize that god-forsaken shawl is at my ankles.

Meaning, the whole stadium has a full view of my ass. 

In situations like this, playing off embarrassment is the only way forward. I casually reattach it, pull myself up to my full height, and put on a dazzling smile. The crowd goes crazy as I meander over to the Scourge.

I place my hand on the top of his head and look down at him, giving it a patronizing pat. Then I firmly take his chin in my hand and pull his face up to look into my eyes. "Now, that's a good boy." Before pulling away, I give his lower lip a bite to reiterate who's boss.

Another risk on my part, but he's been thoroughly tamed and doesn't bite back. Stoic, silent, and subdued ; he kneels under my chains. 

I turn back to the crowd and raise a victorious fist above me. They cheer at a fever-pitch. Through the racket, Slimeman's voice booms down. 

"AC is declared victor! Let it be known that all charges against are dropped!" 

If the noise in the stands can grow, it seems to now. My ears ring from it, but I enjoy every second. Flowers are thrown down at me from above and land at my feet in the sand. I make a slow turn, savoring the glory of this moment. 

In my slow turn, I lock eyes with Julian. It seems that the guards stayed with him outside of the dungeon, unwilling to miss the fight between the Scourge and I. His face is redder than I've ever seen, and he has a hungry look in his eye. It almost makes me run back to him. Then I remember I'm way too good for that. I _am_ a mule, after all. 

I turn and give him the cold-shoulder. He'll be sent to the gallows tomorrow anyway. 

I look back to the stands to wave and bow. I chuckle, putting up abashed airs. Upon closer inspection of the crowd, though, it seems antsy… feverish, even. More than a few people cry hysterically, which worsens when I wave to them. I blow a kiss to one group and a man faints. 

Then, the first person hops the barrier. At that, it's like a dam breaks and the floodgates open. Soon, I am charged from all sides. Hungry hands run over me from all angles while I am pulled this way and that. 

So shocked by the sudden rush, my defenses are completely down. I feel lips pressed to any exposed and accessible skin as I am passed through the surge of admiring bodies. I start to panic, feeling extremely claustrophobic. Their veneration is so overbearing, and on such a grand scale, that I'm shutting down. 

For the first time, I feel that I am in a situation that I cannot get myself out of. Then, out of the corner of my eye, a looming figure rises above the crowd and pushes its way toward me. Hooking a large hand under one armpit, then the other, I am hauled above the voracious beasts below. 

Solid arms cradle me as I am held bridal-style. My eyes slowly make their way up from the glimmering, beautiful pectorals before my vision, and reach the face of none other than the bear I just made into a cub : the Scourge. 

He has an unexpectedly soft, doleful expression. Our eyes lock for a moment before he hoists me up further and throws me over his shoulder.

I scream at another unexpected change in altitude, but when I am settled in, I feel more at ease. Better than that, actually. The sensation of his large palm pressed into my back, steadying me on his shoulder while he steps over the crowd, makes me feel all kinds of good. As he makes his way through, the guards begin rounding up the manic mass. 

Once they gain control of them, I mentally prepare myself to be brusquely released from his warm embrace. But to my pleasant surprise, the Scourge's pace doesn't slow. 

Instead, he makes his way toward the exit of the arena. On my way out, I look up and catch sight of Nadia and Portia in their box. They are both gripping the railing, now, intently observing the two of us leave together. The mix of fear and jealousy on their face, either _at_ me or _for_ me, makes the heat of the day rise to my cheeks. 

As I wonder where the Scourge is planning on taking us, I take a few shaky breaths and we leave the stadium far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya. Apologies for the near two-month hiatus. I definitely wasn't expecting it, but, you know... life and what not. 
> 
> I also had a pretty hard time writing this chapter, so it left it in the works for a while. I think I got it to where I want it to be, now. Thank you for your patience! 
> 
> I can promise you I won't be dropping the Adcana (I'm stubborn like that). From the looks at where the story is now, and how much we have left to go, I think there should be about 4 to 5 more chapters before the end! If you're still here to read it after all this time, thank you for staying! It's been fun having you along for the journey ^-^


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